"Best chance I ever had to get a rescue picture," remarked Russ, as he reeled away at the film. The young operator even managed to get in a favorable position, and take views as the blocks were being made fast to the boat. Then, as it was hoisted up, he pictured that. "Is he all right?" asked Mr. Pertell of the sailors in the boat, when the craft was raised to the level of the rail. "Aye, aye, sir," answered the steersman. "Only a bit wet." But Mr. Towne was more than a bit wet. He was completely soaked, and a more bedraggled-looking specimen of humanity would be hard to find. "Oh, the poor man!" exclaimed Ruth, who had thought better of her determination to go below. "It's his own fault," snapped Miss Pennington. "He should not have carried on so." "Well, it was partly our fault," interposed Miss Dixon, who was perhaps more just. "We were laughing with him." "Don't go too close!" cautioned Miss Pennington, as she saw her friend advancing toward the group of sailors, and others who surrounded the rescue party. They were helping Mr. Towne out of the boat. "Why shouldn't I go close?" Laura wanted to know. "You might get your dress wet. Mine spots terribly." "Oh, so does mine. I forgot; and sea water stains so badly!" So the two actresses drew away. "There, I guess that will do," remarked Russ, as he saw that there was no more film left in the camera. "Now, Mr. Pertell, you'll have to get some story written around these scenes. Add more to them, and you'll have a good reel." "I'll do it, Russ. I'm glad you were here to take them, so long as it did not turn out seriously." "Do you--er--ah--mean to say that you _filmed_ me?" demanded the dudish actor, who had overheard this colloquy. "I got some pictures of you--yes," admitted Russ. "I couldn't resist the temptation." "I demand that those pictures be destroyed!" cried Mr. Towne, who seemed to have recovered rapidly from his unexpected bath. "What for?" asked Mr. Pertell, in surprise. "I haven't seen them, of course--can't until they're developed, and that won't be for some time. But I should say the rescue pictures would make a fine film." "But I want it burned up. I won't have it shown!" insisted Mr. Towne. "Why not?" "Do you suppose for one instant--er, ah--that I am going to let the public see me like this?" and Mr. Towne glanced at his wet and dripping garments--garments that, but a short time ago, had been a walking testimonial of the tailor's art. Now they were wet and misshapen. "Why, you can't expect a man who has just been rescued from New York Bay to look as though he came out of a band-box; can you, dear man?" asked Mr. Pertell. "Of course you look wet--the public will expect to see you wet--dripping with water, in fact. Water always comes out well in the movies, anyhow. Of course the public wants to see you wet!"